Building a Cake
by The Crow and the Butterfly
Summary: The early-morning escapades of Koko and Sumire: Lock-picking, illegal use of kitchens, mind-reading, sexism, shouting, the long walk to Central Town, flawed logic, a flustered baker, and a major case of shoe regret. This, he knows, is why they're friends.


This was supposed to be short, drabbly, and part of Moments and Musings. I managed to get marvelously off-topic. Obviously.

"How the heck are you gonna do that?"

"I'll build her a cake or something."

_-Napoleon Dynamite_

* * *

Koko spread the paper (lined, smudged, ripped through the holes, as usual) out on the smooth wooden surface. "This is the master plan. O.B.C."

"You are aware it's _A_BC, right?" Sumire said, squinting at the drawing while leaning on the other side of the counter. "What _is _that, anyway?"

"You're looking at it upside-down!" Koko sighed, exasperated. "It's a cake! And I know the alphabet," he added. "I'm not retarded. That's the title. Operation Birthday Cake."

His friend snapped her gum, leaning back on the heels of her new slingbacks and scrutinizing the so-called master plan with skepticism. "Haven't you got any more sophisticated art supplies than crayons?"

He huffed in indignation. "There wasn't a pink colored pencil, okay?"

"Does it have to be pink?"

"Of course it does!" Koko threw up his hands to stress the point that was obviously not getting through. "When you think of Anna Umenomiya, do you think black? Do you think orange? No! You think _pink_!"

"Ohhhh," Sumire smirked. "This is for Anna-chan, now is it?"

"Who were you thinking it was for?" Koko asked, confused.

Sumire crossed one leg over the other; rubbing at a mascara smear she was pretty sure might be there. "I was thinking it was for you."

"Why would I want to make my own birthday cake?" Koko scoffed. "And, for that matter, why would I want a pink birthday cake?"

"Real men wear pink," she quipped.

"Does Natsume wear pink?"

"No," Sumire groaned. "I was thinking you might have been the type to believe that real men wear pink. " She ignored Koko's indignant squawk. "Or, you could always just be gay."

He narrowed his eyes. "What was that?"

"Well, you never told me exactly what you and Kitsuneme do at those sleepovers."

"What is wrong," Koko demanded, pointing a threatening finger, "with a couple guys sleeping together?" Sumire burst out laughing, and Koko blushed furiously. "Not like _that_! It came out wrong! I swear!"

Sumire held up her hands in surrender. "Whatever floats your boat."

"Whatever," he grumbled. "Can we just get on with making this cake?"

"Why are you so set on making Anna a birthday cake?" The question had been bugging her for a while, and Sumire wanted a good reason why she had been dragged out of her bedroom (how did he even get in her room?), at _six in the_- "

"Picked the lock, if you must know. Classic."

"Would you stay _out _of my head for five seconds?"

"Right. Sorry."

-At _six in the morning, _despite her-

"Why were you even up then? I mean, why were you completely dressed then? Even those ridiculous shoes? And that skirt? And why on earth were you chewing gum at six in the morning?"

"Koko, what did I tell you?"

"Right. Sorry."

-Despite her muffled screams of _"Help! Kidnap!" _and-

"It's a wonder you didn't wake up the entire dorm, you crazy woman."

"KOKO!"

"Right. Sorry."

-And smuggled into the kitchens before breakfast was prepared to, apparently, make some girl a cake. Like she totally didn't have enough cake. "I'm done now," she declared. Koko stopped "La-la-la"-ing and removed his fingers from his ears (though they were just in for the full effect, they didn't stop his alice).

They stared at each other for a few seconds, in silence.

"You never answered my question, you know."

Koko grinned. "Right. Sorry."

"Would you _shut up _and get to the point?"

He rested his chin in his hand, leaning forward on the countertop, and Sumire readied herself for a long-winded explanation. "So, yesterday, I was talking to Nonoko, you know, chemistry project, had to snag her as a partner, all that shit." He paused for Sumire's input, or possibly, merely for effect. She nodded, and he continued. "And she was all like, 'Are you going to get Anna-chan a present?' and I was like, 'Present for what?' and she was all 'Her birthday's tomorrow and I know she'd love it if you got her something,' so I-"

"Did you know you talk like a girl?" Sumire observed. Koko ignored her with a roll of his eyes.

"So, as I was saying, I was like 'oh, I had no idea' and-"

"You've been in the same class as this girl for _years_ and still haven't managed to grasp that her birthday's the second of March?"

Koko glared at her indignantly. "I haven't exactly been paying attention, okay?"

Sumire tossed her hair over her shoulder as best she could, which was a bit difficult, as it didn't reach that far. "So why're you paying attention now?"

` "I sort of thought…" Koko mumbled, considerably less animated. "That maybe… I could kind of… You know…"

"Get a date?" Sumire finished.

"Yeah," he sighed, somewhat resignedly. "That."

"Now, I hate to burst your bubble," Sumire said to her friend. "But of all the possible ways for you, keep in mind this is _you _we're talking about, who's probably never touched an oven in his life, to impress Anna Umenomiya, baking a cake, which she can do better than pretty much anyone at this school, mind you, is not the best way to go about it."

"Thanks, Sumi," he muttered slumping down on the counter, burying his face in his arms. "My bubble is effectively burst."

God, Sumire hated how he would do this. First, he would stop smiling. That was when you knew the heavy-duty stuff was coming. He would close his eyes, shake his head slightly, tremble his lip (or in the worst cases, bite it), and his hair would seem to lose its gravity-defying power. He just looked so damn _sad_. Though it was childish, stupid, and barely a step down from puppy eyes (she shuddered at the thought) it worked, he knew it, and that was how Koko got his way. She may as well give up now and make him an entire cake herself.

Koko's head shot up, an excited expression on his face. "You mean it?"

"No," she snapped. His eyes opened wide, and seemed to become slightly shinier. She shook her head violently.

Did she seriously just hear him _whimper_?

"Fine." She watched him with furious distaste as he laughed. "You are so unbelievably _juvenile_."

Koko disregarded every hint of disinclination in her tone. "Do you think you can really help?" he asked eagerly.

She fussed with the bow on her yellow blouse before answering. "I mean, I'm no Julia Child, but, well… Stop laughing! Stop it!" He sobered immediately at her fierce glare.

"Right then," stated Sumire, pleased that things were finally under control. "Have you got a recipe?" Koko stared back at her blankly.

"A what?"

"Don't look so confused, you moron! A recipe! You know, the directions?"

"But," he said, "I thought girls just knew that stuff."

She would have liked to make a few sexist comments of her own right then, but decided against it. "You mean to tell me you plan to make a cake in a limited time in kitchens we're totally not allowed to be using, and you don't have the slightest clue what goes in it?"

"I dunno," Koko replied, still apparently unaware why that was such a big deal.

"You dunce, go look for a cake recipe!" Sumire surveyed the large room that seemed to hold every kitchen implement one could possibly need. "There's got to be a cookbook in here somewhere."

"Why don't you go look for one?" he protested.

"Because this is completely your fault!" Sumire shrieked. Koko clamped a hand over her mouth.

"Are you crazy? Do you want them to hear us?"

"Who's them?" she asked, though it barely came out audible.

Koko understood, of course. "You know," he whispered. "_Them_."

"What are you even talking about?" She questioned, freeing herself from his grip. "And besides," she added, referring to the previous topic of conversation. "Does this skirt look like it's made to look for things in?"

"Why can't you just wear pants like normal people?"

"So people who wear skirts are weirdos in your book?"

"Really, they're so impractical. What if you wanted to do a cartwheel?"

"Why on earth would I want to do a cartwheel?"

Koko sighed heavily. "I don't know, Sumire. What if someone came up and held a gun to your head and you had to do a cartwheel or he'd kill you?"

Sumire stared in disbelief for a full five seconds. "Do you come up with this stuff off the top of your head, or do you rehearse?"

He shrugged. "Depends."

"You know what? Would you just go find a damn cookbook and shut up about cartwheels?" Sumire growled.

Koko shivered, hopping up onto a chair to reach a top cabinet. "Someone woke up on the wrong side of bed this morning."

Sumire perused the cupboards that didn't require her to bend down or climb anywhere, but found only sugar, flour, and various other powdered ingredients. "I got up on the side I always do, thank you very much."

Koko snorted. "That would explain a lot."

"What is that supposed to mean, exactly?" Sumire hissed.

"Nothing, nothing." Koko brushed the comment off airily. "Found one!" He chucked a thick book at Sumire's head. She let out a shriek of surprise and narrowly avoided a concussion. The cookbook hit the floor with a resounding _thunk_, and the pair froze.

"Koko," Sumire said, after she had deemed it safe to breathe. "This is for _meat_, you nimrod."

"Oh, sorry." He tossed down another, slimmer one, and she caught it with the tips of her fingers. "This one's got a cake on it, so I assume it'll work."

She riffled the pages. "Do you ever consider reading?"

"Looking at the pictures is easier."

Sumire laid the book on the table and flipped to the index. "Alright, let's narrow this down. Do you want chocolate or vanilla?"

Koko peered over her shoulder. "Can we do both?"

"Koko, I am not making two kinds of cake. Choose one."

"Fine," he decided. "Vanilla."

"Alright then." Sumire turned to the beginning, scanning the descriptions. "They say this one's 'good for beginners.' That's us." She turned around, dictating Koko a list of ingredients. "Go get flour, butter, sugar, milk, eggs…"

"Where am I supposed to know where all that is?" he protested.

"I don't know, just go find it!" she cried. "We're never going to get this done at this rate!"

"Jesus Christ, woman, stop bitching about getting things done when you're not even helping!" Koko replied.

"You're not helping either!" she retorted.

"I'm the one who found the instructions—"

"The _recipe._"

"Whatever! But all you've done is sit and whine and order me around!"

"Shut up, Koko," Sumire muttered. "You know I'm a bitch in the morning."

"Actually, you're pretty much a bitch all the time!"

She seized his collar, pulling him on to his tiptoes with impressive strength for a girl who was usually preoccupied with scuffing her shoes. "Say that again."

All of a sudden, someone (most likely a cook, judging from the apron and toque) stormed into the kitchens, slamming the door open. "Hey! You kids!" he shouted, taking them by surprise. "Get out of here!"

Sumire gasped and dropped Koko, who merely stood there, gaping and dumbstruck.

"Did you hear me? GET OUT!" hollered the cook. Both Sumire and Koko took the opportunity to make a break for the door.

Once safely in the hall (after the cook had muttered something about "kids these days,") Koko promptly sunk to the ground and raked a hand through his hair. "Dammit."

"Hey," Sumire patted his head in an awkward attempt at comfort. "You can always go buy a cake."

He looked up at her, holding up a fist. "One," he said, lifting a finger, "Central Town probably isn't open right now, two," -he lifted another- "even if it was we've got no way to get there, and three," he mumbled dejectedly, "even if the stores were open and we somehow got there, I'm broke."

"Can't we just walk?"

"Yeah, but it would take for_ever_."

"You know what?" Sumire declared, pulling Koko to his feet. "You are going to get your ass down to Central Town, or you are going to stop complaining." She sighed. "I'll pay."

"You mean it?"

"Not for you, Koko," she clarified. "For your pathetic love life."

Half an hour later, once the sun had started to come up, Sumire and Koko wandered among the empty paths in Central Town. It didn't look like the shops were open, and Koko was getting more and more discouraged.

_"Odd," _Sumire thought. _"You're usually the optimist."_

"Well, would you be optimistic in a situation like this?" he replied glumly, poking at a darkened window.

"I mean, I don't see why this is such a big deal," she said. "It's not like you were outright rejected. You never even got to do anything." She paused for a moment. "Do you even like her that much?"

"Uh, duh," he mumbled. "I wouldn't be here if I didn't."

"Why Anna over Nonoko, then?" Sumire asked.

"You know how they're always referred to as 'Anna and Nonoko?'"

"What's that got to do with it?"

"They're never called 'Nonoko and Anna.' Anna comes first. It's like 'Natsume and Luca,' or 'Mikan and Hotaru.' The second one's just the sidekick; the first's the real deal."

Sumire raised her eyebrows. "Are you serious?" she wondered disbelievingly.

"Well," he deadpanned. "Yeah."

"You," she scolded. "Are a complete moron, you know."

"Well, sue me," he defended. "They've got practically the same personality. All that's left to choose is whether I like pink hair or blue."

"How about you and Kitsuneme? You two look the same; you practically share the same brain."

"Koko comes first in Koko and Kitsuneme," he stated, as if that was logical at all. "That's why you chose me instead of him."

Sumire stopped, Koko (who was trailing behind) didn't realize and bumped into her. "What do you mean, I chose you?"

"You chose me to make friends with. Duh. As far as I'm aware, you're not especially close with Kitsuneme."

"That's… That's not the only reason! I mean, that's not the reason at all! You weren't even _friends _with Kitsuneme when I met you!" Sumire stammered.

"I stand by my theory," Koko stubbornly replied, picking a leaf from a nearby bush and tearing it along the vein.

"Well, who comes first between us?" Sumire asked. "Is it Sumire and Koko, or Koko and Sumire?"

"That's a funny case," he said. "I've heard it both ways."

"What does that mean, then?"

Koko grinned widely, draping an arm around Sumire's shoulders. "It means we're both the best."

"I can hardly disagree with that," she smiled back. "Oh, look. There's a bakery over there. Let's go see if we can bully them into letting us in." Koko laughed. _This_ was why he was friends with Sumire.

Koko pressed his nose against the glass of the door. "There's someone in there. I can see!"

"Good," muttered Sumire. She pounded repeatedly on the door. "Oi, you! Let us in!" The bakery owner pointed to the "closed" sign hanging on the doorknob. Sumire remained undiscouraged. She put her hands together, doing her best to act cute. "Please?" she whined, though the man behind the glass probably couldn't hear.

He opened the door, and Sumire straightened. "Are you two even allowed to be here right now?" She didn't answer, but seized Koko's arm and dragged him into the shop after her.

"Excellent!" she praised, looking around the cozy shop in approval. She pointed to Koko. "He's looking for a birthday cake, and fast."

"Why do you need a birthday cake at seven in the morning?" the somewhat flustered baker asked. "Have you even had breakfast yet?"

"Please, sir," Koko begged. "It's really important."

Sumire sashayed over to whisper into the man's ear. "It's for a _girl_." Koko looked horrorstruck, but the baker smiled.

"A girl, eh?" He turned back to Sumire. "Not this lovely lady, I presume?"

"No way. "She wrinkled he nose. "Ew. Someone else."

"I see," he responded. "I've only got a few ready that didn't sell yesterday, but I may just disregard the fact that you two aren't exactly supposed to be here, and let you take one back."

"I want the pink one!" Koko said enthusiastically.

The baker looked slightly confused. "Did I mention that?"

"Mind-reader," Sumire explained.

She fished out the money from her jacket pocket, and handing it over the counter, she turned to Koko. "If this doesn't get you a date, you owe me next month's allowance."

"What?" he groaned, heading out of the shop toting a powder-blue bakery box. "But you only had to pay like, half that!"

"The rest is for the trouble," Sumire said. "My feet are killing me."

"See, this is why you don't wear shoes like that," he replied with a hint of I-told-you-so. "Especially not if you're planning to walk to Central Town and back."

"I wasn't _planning_ to," she muttered darkly. "You abducted me, remember?"

"I wouldn't go so far as _abducted_, exactly," he shot back.

"Do you even know what abduction means?"

Koko sighed. He was going to have to put up with this until breakfast...

Once they made it into the middle-school dormitory, Sumire turned to look at her friend again. "Which room is hers? I don't remember."

Koko stared blankly. "Well, shit. How am I supposed to know?"

"Did you think this through at _all_?" she hissed under her breath, realizing that she was in a dormitory full of people probably sleeping in on Sunday morning.

"Yeah, I did," he replied heatedly (but quietly). "Just not the parts that I needed to, apparently."

"We're going to have to go up and down every hall looking at nameplates. You realize that, don't you?"

"So?"

Sumire slid down the wall, making an agonized face and completely ignoring the fact that her short skirt was hardly intended for such actions. "I can't walk any more. I have blisters. Blisters!" she whined.

"Can't you just go barefoot?" Koko suggested.

"Ugh, fine," she grumbled. "I'll go look at these rooms down here. "

It was Koko who found the nameplate that read "Anna Umenomiya," therefore, it was Koko who woke quite a few disgruntled middle-schoolers while thundering down the hall to alert Sumire in the hallway over. She sighed with relief, picked up the cake that Koko had been too lazy to carry around, and lugged it over in front of the door. She balanced it against her hip and adjusted her shoes (which were dangling from her fingers by the straps) in order to rap on the smooth wood with her knuckles.

Nobody answered.

"Should we just leave it?" wondered Koko.

"Maybe you can pick her lock, as you seem to be so proficient at it." she retorted scathingly. After a moment's hesitation, she voiced what she had been thinking for a while. "Why go to all this trouble? Couldn't you just walk up to her and say 'Hey, do you want to go out sometime?' Just a thought."

"Well, I dunno," Koko said, fairly unhelpfully.

"Doesn't it seem a bit pathetic to have to get someone a cake for them to like you?"

"Oh yeah?" he challenged. "Like you can get someone to like you without making them a cake."

"Sure I can," she smirked. "I've never made you a cake, but you like me."

Anna left the bathroom and opened her door to find a lone box on the floor outside, and no one in sight. Curious, she opened it. Inside was a pink-and-white cake with sugar roses around the border. She tentatively tasted a bit of the icing, and tried a few crumbs that were leaking from the side. A little smushed, she thought, but not half bad. Picking up the box, she retreated into her room, humming "Happy Birthday" to herself.

Meanwhile, doors opened up and down the next hall, students interested to find out why Sumire Shouda (why was she here, anyway?) was chasing the mind-reader boy down a flight of stairs, yelling something that sounded like "Not that way, you immature asshole!"

Koko had known, of course. He'd just wanted to see her run in those shoes.

He'd forgotten she wasn't wearing them.

* * *

Dear Sumire and Koko,

I'm very sorry I don't like you as much as I should. While I'm usually enthusiastic about those in the depths of side-character oblivion, and usually love the type of relationship you two have, for some reason, I don't actually think about anything Sumire, Koko, or SumireKoko. You guys probably won't be showing up much from now on, so I hope this one'll tide you over for now.

Sincerely, The Crow and the Butterfly

Can I trouble anyone for a review?


End file.
